


a space wolf’s life

by leftishark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, very very vaguely implied - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftishark/pseuds/leftishark
Summary: A sheith morning told through the eyes of their best boy.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 143
Collections: Sheith Prompt Party 2020





	a space wolf’s life

**Author's Note:**

> the prompt was for a good ol sheith and their entire morning routine. this turned out a little different, but I hope you like it!
> 
> [here is the wonderful, adorable art](https://twitter.com/ana_pla_/status/1305354426685820928?s=20) from my partner Ana ([@ana_pla_](https://twitter.com/ana_pla_/)) that helped inspire this--please check it out and show them some love!

Mornings are Kosmo’s favorite time of day.

He snuffles and sniffles out of a nice dream about the training exercise he and Keith do sometimes where Keith throws a stick and then brings it back to Kosmo. In the dream, Kosmo is the one throwing the stick and running to pick it up—but that’s silly, he realizes as he wakes, because he can teleport, so he wouldn’t have to run, and anyway he can’t throw things. 

Oh, well; it was fun while it lasted. 

Kosmo is always the first one awake; even when Keith or Shiro have a nightmare, Kosmo senses it before they wake up and he’s there beside them when they do. He doesn’t bother getting up yet, just shuffles around to get a comfier in his big fluffy bed and watches the sky brighten through the window. 

Shiro wakes second. 

Kosmo hears him shift around as he kisses Keith wherever he can reach: often his shoulder, sometimes his cheek or forehead. Today it’s all three. Then he slides out from under the covers, careful to be quiet as he brushes his teeth and washes up in the bathroom. 

(Kosmo brushes his teeth too, or rather Keith brushes them, but only once a movement.) 

Shiro stretches when he’s done, rolling his shoulder and neck, twisting side to side. At this point, Kosmo gets up and stretches with him. Down dog, this one is called, or at least that’s what Lance coos whenever he sees him do it. 

When they’re both done, Shiro puts his arm on, and Kosmo tilts his head, waiting. 

“Go get him,” Shiro murmurs, so Kosmo trots over and puts his chin on the bed right by Keith. He’s gotten so big that he has to hunch down a little to do it.

Keith grumbles but pats Kosmo’s head, scrunching his fingers up into his thick fur. He gives one more big loud groan, stretching out over the whole bed, then ambles over gives Shiro a quick side hug on his way to the bathroom. 

“Morning, baby,” Shiro says, planting a kiss on the top of Keith’s head.

Keith pats his butt.

Today they’re planetside, a few weeks into their stay on Taujeer’s moon, so after Keith emerges from the bathroom looking and smelling a little fresher and more awake, the three of them head out for a run. On the days they spend in space, traveling between one galaxy and another or just drifting among the stars for the pleasure of it, Keith and Shiro will do a body weight workout in the living area of the space ship instead, and Kosmo gets his energy out by zapping in and out around them, making them laugh and collapse out of their plank holds. 

He prefers this, though, being able to really stretch his legs and breathe fresh air into his lungs. He knows his humans prefer it too. 

They set out at an easy pace, warming up their limbs before upping the speed to something more vigorous. This part of the moon is cool and dry, featuring mountainous crags sparsely vegetated with blue-ish foliage a similar color and texture to Kosmo’s fur, plus some twiggy shrubs that must be in their dormant season. Remembering his dream, Kosmo runs off the path to dart among the brush. He can find a nice stick and pretend he threw it himself. He sniffs around, ducking down to grab the best branch in his teeth.

“Where’d he go?” Shiro asks dramatically. Keith chuckles beside him.

“I think we lost him and got a space bush instead,” he says when Kosmo trots back to them. And okay, maybe there are some twigs in his fur and maybe he got a little dust all over, but that’s not the point, the point is—“Oh,” Keith says, reaching for the branch in Kosmo’s mouth, “you got a—is this for me?” 

Kosmo wags his tail happily. It’s not technically _for_ Keith—he’s just showing Keith that he can do it too—but if Keith wants to keep the stick as proof, he can. Some things just don’t translate between space wolf and human. 

“What a good boy!” Keith says with a big, proud smile, ruffling the fur on Kosmo’s head. Kosmo preens. “Look, Shiro!”

“Yeah, babe,” Shiro says, smiling too. “You know what you deserve? A bath.” 

Kosmo woofs his approval. He _loves_ baths.

*

Breakfast comes first, though. When they get back, Keith brews himself coffee. Some people drink coffee to wake up, Kosmo knows, having seen the Green Paladin’s post-coffee transformation. Keith, on the other hand, wakes up from exercise and is unaffected by caffeine; he just enjoys the taste. He let Kosmo try it once, and he blinked in and out of existence for a whole varga.

Shiro cuts three slices of bread, a loaf from their local hosts that’s deep brown-blue and dense. He makes himself a smoothie while the bread is toasting, tossing in the produce they traded for at the farm stand in town, some unfamiliar green clusters and pale yellow roots. The blender is from Earth, a wedding gift from Shiro’s aunts; they’ve brought it with them to a dozen planets, and Shiro’s concocted all manner of smoothie.

“Citrus-y,” he announces when he stirs it up and licks the chopstick.

“Kinda like that one melon on Arus? Our boy's favorite?”

Kosmo likes a lot of fruit, and he _loved_ those melons. An Arusian melon farmer near their place kept them well stocked during their stay, and when they left, she gave them some fabric printed with melon slices that Shiro made into a shower curtain.

Shiro frowns thoughtfully. “More floral,” he decides, handing the chopstick over to Keith to sample. Keith nods in agreement.

They pour the coffee and the smoothie into matching mugs: light gray with stars in the shape of Kosmo’s face, _Dog Dad_ inscribed in curling letters. Never mind that Kosmo isn’t a dog; he’s a space wolf. He doesn’t mind. The toast goes on plates for each of them, and Keith breaks up Kosmo’s slice into pieces in his bowl, covering it with shredded meat. The bowl matches their mugs, almost, minus the words—they made them themselves on a pottery date on Olkarion, and it’s a bit lopsided, a little misshapen, but whenever Kosmo has to eat out of a different bowl because they forget to bring his, the food doesn’t taste quite the same. 

After the food is gone and the dishes are cleared, Kosmo follows the two of them into the bathroom, eager for his bath. Keith likes to say that he takes after Shiro in this regard, and it’s true that Shiro was the one to introduce the kind of bath that involves tubs and bubbles that pop and not just splashing around in a lake, although Kosmo likes that, too. Shiro turns on the tap while Keith brushes his teeth again—“to get rid of the food taste,” he explained once, wrinkling his nose. Ever since then, Shiro has carried a spare toothbrush and toothpaste in his belt pockets, giving him a funny minty smell around the hips.

“Ready, Kosmo?” Shiro says. 

Oh, is he ready! He teleports just over the bathtub, dropping in and splashing Shiro with soapy water. Shiro yelps and laughs, plopping a big wad of bubbles on Kosmo’s head in retaliation.

“Wuhwu,” Keith mumbles, toothbrush poking out of his mouth.

“What was that?” Shiro says, although Kosmo is pretty sure he knows what Keith meant. Heck, _Kosmo_ understood.

Keith rolls his eyes and takes the toothbrush out, spitting toothpaste foam in the sink. “Love you.”

Shiro stands, abandoning Kosmo with his soap bubble hat. He circles his arms around Keith’s waist and kisses his cheek. “I love _you_.” 

Keith squirms in his hold, but he’s laughing, and then he turns around to plant a kiss on Shiro’s chin, leaving a white toothpaste print behind. Kosmo sinks lower into the bathtub.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/183027291@N04/50402439387/in/dateposted-public/)

“We’re embarrassing him,” Keith says when he finally looks over.

“Sorry, boy,” Shiro says, coming back to wash him up. Kosmo tries to give him a judgmental look, but he loves his humans and they love each other and him, and he folds when Shiro gives him even better puppy eyes than he can do himself.

Once Kosmo is cleaned and toweled off, the boys take their shower. Usually they go one after another, but today Shiro pulls Keith in with him. It always takes longer like this, so Kosmo does a thorough survey of the place, cataloguing smells: shoes by the door, trash under the sink, slippers under the bed. Everything is in its place.

“What are we doing today?” Keith asks as they come out of the bathroom together.

Shiro looks at the calendar over the table. “We have that synthesis report that Kolivan sent to read, and then whatever we want. Visit the shrine, check out the port, ”

Keith looks over at Kosmo. “What do you think, buddy?” 

Kosmo tilts his head.

“Yeah,” Keith says, nodding. “That sounds good.”

It’ll be a good day, a simple one like when he was a puppy growing up with Keith and his mom on the space wolf. Kosmo’s seen a lot since then, and his humans have, too; it makes them all the more grateful for every day that they can just be. 

It’s a good life.


End file.
